


Sweetheart Summer

by Crackerjackz



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (2013)
Genre: Angst, Daisy and Jordan are bi besties, Daisy is smarter than she looks, Drinking, F/F, I know this all sounds depressing but i promise it's still fun, Jordan is a bisexual badass, Meet-Cute, Nick and Gatsby aren't in this one sorry, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, References to Depression, Smoking, Summer Camp, Summer Romance, World War I, definitely not a slow burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-05 01:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20480840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crackerjackz/pseuds/Crackerjackz
Summary: It's the fifteenth year of the new century, and the fifteenth year of Jordan Baker's life. Things are not going well. There's a world war on in Europe and at home, Jordan is finding herself in deeper and deeper trouble. Her parents are jerks, she's surrounded by idiots, and there's no real reason to keep going on. But when Jordan is forced into taking an unexpected trip to a summer camp out in the middle of Kentucky, she meets one person who can change all that. The glorious Daisy Fay. Together, they navigate life, love and friendship.





	Sweetheart Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! I know I haven't posted in quite a while and this is the reason why. It's more than twice as long as a normal chapter that I would write for my multi-chapter fic! My poor hands *cries* they're going to fall off soon. But Jordan is going to feature prominently in the next chapter of Gatsby, Guns and Gold so I thought I should get to know her better and write this fic as a character study of sorts. Also, I haven't seen a lot of Jordan/Daisy stuff recently, so here you go! I got the idea for this story when I was working at a summer camp, and I thought it would be interesting to see how the young Daisy and Jordan would interact with each other in such an environment.This work covers more serious topics and has some mild homophobic language in it, so be warned. Don't worry, I still put in a few funny parts. Enjoy!

On my fifteenth birthday, my parents gave me..._something_ that changed my life forever. I wouldn’t say present or gift because what I received was more akin to a curse. But whatever you would call it, it certainly led to an outcome that my parents didn’t intend.

It had been another warm summer in Louisville, and on the morning I was to turn fifteen all the windows had been thrown open to let the quickly receding cold from the previous night into the house. The sounds of my mother struggling with my bedroom windows and the crisp air that followed woke me up. As she turned to leave she saw me sitting up in my bed, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

“Time to get up,” she offered tersely. When I managed to lift my heavy eyelids again she was gone. In my opinion, it was not time to get up. So I corrected my mother’s error by pulling the sheets all the way over my head and going back to sleep. But not long after that I was awoken for a second time by gentle shaking.

“Happy Birthday, Jojo.”

Fully alert, I threw back the covers vehemently and glared up at my older brother of 17 years, who was crouching next to my bed.

“My name is not Jojo.”

“I know, I’m just teasing.” Max smiled and affectionately brushed a few strands of hair out of my face. At the time my hair looked ghastly, shoulder length and much less dark. I considered the nickname to be ghastly as well, much too childish for my age. Though Max hadn’t called me Jojo since our shared childhood, he still used it occasionally to annoy me. I hated my hair and I hated the dumb nicknames other people gave me. But at that time in my life, I hated everything.

“So how does being fifteen feel?”

“Just as bad as being fourteen felt.”

“Hey, you never know what could happen. Number 15 could be your lucky year.” Ever the optimist, Max was always trying to cheer me up. Being a chronic pessimist, I’ve never understood where this positive energy comes from, but I admire those people who don’t let life drag them down. If I had been in my brother’s shoes, I certainly would have been able to maintain a sunny disposition. Though Max was meant to be studying at the prestigious Princeton University next year, if the U.S. joined the war he could be claimed by the draft. The entire household was waiting with bated breath for the dreaded day, but we generally tried not to discuss it.

“It’s going to be time for breakfast soon,” Max informed me.

“I don’t want to go down there,” I protested. It was true. Why would I want to spend my birthday making awkward conversation with my awful parents who only pretended to love me? My idea of a birthday that was good, or at least not bad, involved not having to socialize with anyone who I disliked. And preferably it would include at least one good smoke.

“I know,” Max sympathized. His face softened in understanding and sadness.

“But it won’t be so bad. You’ll have me.”

“Yeah. I’ll have you,” I agreed. Max straightened up and made for the door.

“Come down to breakfast, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

“And don’t fall asleep, Jojo.”

“I told you,” I yelled as his teasing grin floated past me and out the door, “I’m not Jojo!”

\---

The disaster occurred just as we were finishing up breakfast. My day had started off unusually well. Somehow I made it through my eggs and sausage without ruffling my parents’ feathers, and our topic of conversation was not my many sins, as it often had been in the past few months. In fact, other than the usual small talk, my family was silent. It was only when I was finishing off the fruit that my mother decided to shatter the peace.

“Jordan, as you know, it is your fifteenth birthday.” When she paused awkwardly, I looked up from my food, waiting for a bombshell.

“Your father and I have decided to give you a gift.”

“A gift?” I exchanged a quick glance with Max, intrigued. With the endless tirades about my behavior I had to sit through every day, I hadn’t expected that I would be getting any presents.

“Yes,” she affirmed, clearing her throat uncomfortably. A suspicious tingle crept up the back of my neck.

“There’s a summer camp, not far from here. It’s in Shepherdsville.”

I offered nothing.

“We’ve registered you to go there for a week.”

“What kind of camp is it?” Max broke in. Apparently he hadn’t known about this surprise either.

“The average kind, I suppose.” My mother shrugged. “It has all the usual activities: hiking, swimming, camping, and the like.”

My father, who had been surveying the paper, which contained the latest news of the war, chose this moment to turn his steely gaze on me.

“Well, Jordan? What do you think?”

“I think…” I gestured wildly into the air. “I think this is unbelievable.”

Max shot me a warning look, but I ignored it in favor of continuing my indignant rant.

“You’re trying to get rid of me, that’s what this is.”

“We’re not trying to get rid of you,” my mother protested.

“That’s exactly what you want. You’d love for your little problem to disappear.”

“Be quiet! That’s enough out of you,” my father demanded.

“You will be going to Camp Shantituck tomorrow-”

“Tomorrow?!”

“-whether you like it or not, and if you don’t manage to learn proper behavior there, I can think of other ways to teach you.”

The ultimatum was clear. Either I was to reform myself while away or face increased punishment when I returned.

“You can make me go to the camp,” I said, “but you can’t change me.” I got up and threw my napkin down in fury, not caring how my parents would react. Storming out of the room and down the hall to the front door, I heard the familiar sound of a chair being slid back violently as Max got up to follow me.

“Jordan!”

I didn’t care about my parents. About my shitty life. The only thing I cared about at the moment was how fast I could get a cigarette between my lips. Once outside I made a beeline for the shed in our garden, where a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes had been concealed behind a loose brick. I didn’t care if someone saw me. There would always be more cigarettes and more places to hide them.

“Jordan!”

With my shaking fingers, I withdrew a single cigarette from the almost empty pack. I set its end ablaze from the tiny lighter I had included in the box.

“In a hurry?” Max had finally caught up.

“Sorry,” I replied, taking a drag, “Emergency.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.” He frowned at me. Max disapproved of my smoking habit.

“You could at least try to appease them.”

“Absolutely not. They’re the unreasonable ones, not me,” I retorted, crossing my arms. With each puff of smoke, My hands stopped shaking a little less.

“Maybe the camp won’t be so bad.” I snorted at my brother. For all his maturity, his optimism made him delusional sometimes.

“You could make new friends.”

“Why would I need those?”

“The ones you have are pretty much the opposite of decent human beings.”

Max was right, of course. The people I socialized with, because I couldn’t really call them friends, were unreliable assholes who did dangerous things. Adults would define them as a “bad influence.” But they were rule-breakers, and being a part of their group made me feel powerful. I wouldn’t admit any of this, of course.

“That’s not true. Some of them are decent...enough.”

“Don’t you care about who you associate with?”

“No, not really.” I blew out a long plume of smoke. My nonchalance seemed to bother Max.

“Do you care about anything?” I had to think about it for a moment.

“Actually, yes, I do,” I affirmed, more to myself than to my brother. “I care that I’m going to be carted off to some madhouse in the middle of the woods.”

Max let out a frustrated huff. He glanced around, presumably scouting for any nosy neighbors or parental units. As he turned to address me he ran a hand through his neatly-groomed dirty blonde hair.

“Look, Jordan, I know you don’t want to hear this, but your life is going to hell.”

“Yeah. So?” I stared back, blank-faced.

“And you’re fine with that?”

“I’m fine.”

I was most certainly not fine, but I didn’t consider it relevant, since there was nothing I could do about it. Max gave me a sad puppy look.

“Don’t lie to yourself. You need help.”

“I don’t want _help_, not from you or from anyone else.”

“But wouldn’t you want-”

“What I want is for everyone to leave me alone. And that includes you.” I directed a scathing glare at my brother. His heart was in the right place, but I would rather not hear another lecture from him about how to improve my situation.

“Well if that’s what you want, then I’ll leave you to your sulking,” Max shot at me, with all the resentment he could muster. Which was not much, as he had a short temper and had never been good at being resentful.

As he stalked away, I hollered over my shoulder, “And don’t you go pitying me!” for I knew that was what he was doing. Leaning back against the wall of the garden shed, I tried desperately to ignore the disturbing thoughts that threatened to crush me. I wasn’t going to be able to carry on confidently for much longer. The noose was tightening and my freedom would soon vanish as quickly as the smoke trailing from my cigarette.

\---

I wouldn’t get out of the car. I had decided it about halfway through our journey when we had first turned off the highway and onto the side roads that would take us into the forest. We were out in the middle of nowhere, with no houses, telephone lines or any recognizable hallmarks of civilization. As I observed the bleak landscape outside my window, my determination to not be left in this god-awful place grew. The woods were pretty, for sure, but they were also isolating. Back at home I had heard plenty of horror stories about summer camps. Girls like me and my friends wouldn’t be sent to fun, relaxing camps like the ones normal girls went to. Because our guardians thought we needed to be rehabilitated, we would be sent off to the toughest, strictest programs where the counselors would attempt to convert us from our sinful ways. On the outside, I was angry that my family was sending me to one of these places, but on the inside I was mostly terrified of might happen to me when I arrived. This is why when we finally reached at the end of the gravel drive leading to Camp Shantituck, I refused to exit our car. My reasoning was that if I never left the vehicle, I would never have to go to the camp. But my brilliant plan fell to shambles when I made the mistake of explaining my intentions to Max. He got out of the car to speak to a counselor, and I was left alone in the spacious shade of our Ford Model T. My parents had declined to join us on this trip, and I was glad, for it certainly would have made things more tense. Soon enough Max returned and was followed by a willowy woman who had thin, wavy, light brown hair, and a smattering of freckles decorating her cheeks and nose.

“Jordan?” she asked, leaning down so that we were at the same height. I’ve always found this move to be patronizing and it immediately made me dislike the woman.

“I’m Magnolia, one of your unit counselors.” She held out her hand for me to shake, but I ignored it.

“Like the tree?” I raised a skeptical eyebrow at her.

“Exactly. Now your brother tells me that you’re reluctant to join us?” Reluctant was an understatement.

“Yes,” I stated flatly. “I don’t want to be here.”

“That’s a shame, because we’re going to have so much fun this week. I have two daughters that come to this camp, and they love it.”

The best way to describe Magnolia’s tone of voice, which she used often with campers, is by comparing it to artificial sugar. Her words oozed sweetness, like she couldn’t help but be kind and gentle, but at times it felt fake, as if she was putting on an act. This was one of those times, and it made me trust her even less.

“We have so many fun activities planned! Swimming in the lake, hiking, doing archery.”  
Archery? Now that got my attention.

_No! Resist the temptation!_

I shrugged, trying to convey indifference.

“You’ll be with twelve other girls your age,” Magnolia persisted. “Wouldn’t you like to get to know them?” I looked over at the group she was referring to. Surprisingly, they all looked like decent, normal people. Some of the girls were even cute. I looked back to Magnolia and saw Max, waiting behind her with obvious apprehension. Seeing how this conflict had transformed his usual sunny demeanor into anxiety made me realize that I had to accept the fact that I would be staying at the camp. Causing trouble and being stubborn would only make it more difficult for everyone, including myself.

“Okay,” I relented, “I’ll stay.”

“Excellent!” Magnolia beamed and Max looked relieved.

When we had stashed my duffel bag and pillow in a wagon that would take the luggage to our cabin, Max had to say his goodbyes. Before he got back in the car I grabbed him by his jacket sleeve, suddenly feeling like a little girl again.

“You will come back for me, won’t you? You won’t leave me here.”

“Of course I’ll come back for you, Jojo.”

I inwardly grimaced but allowed the use of the endearment.

“Make sure to write often. I want to hear all about your adventures!”

“I’ll try my best.”

“Goodbye!” he called as he drove away, the gravel crunching underneath the tires.

“Goodbye.” I took a moment to wallow in self pity as I watched the person I loved most drive off into the distance, then turned to my new comrades. Surveying the group, I looked for a suitable target to attach myself to. But my efforts were wasted because someone else attached herself to me first. I felt a tap on my shoulder and swiveled to see a short girl with a round face and positively flowing long blonde hair that was tied up in a ponytail. Her shockingly large baby blue eyes sized me up as she queried, “Who are you are you?” in a bubbly voice.

I was so surprised by the fact that this sprite had just appeared by my side that it took me a moment to answer.

“I’m Jordan- Jordan Baker.”

“Nice to meet you, Miss Baker. I’m Daisy Fay.” She extended a delicate hand and this time I shook it. I had heard of the Fays. They were some of the richest people in Louisville, and probably all of Kentucky. My family was wealthy, but Daisy’s was filthy rich.

“I think I’ve heard of your family. Baker,” she mused. Daisy’s manner was a bit formal, but somehow still friendly.

“Oh really?”

“Yes. I might have attended a party at your house. But I don’t recognize you.”

“I’m not really one for parties,” I explained. I often ditched them to go smoke or hang out with friends.

“Me neither. I’d prefer to stay at home and read,” Daisy agreed. We’d run out of things to add to the conversation and an awkward silence descended upon us.

“I’m not a counselor, by the way, if you’re wondering,” Daisy blurted.

“I’m sorry?”

“You know, because all the adults have nature names. Mine blends right in.”

“I think you have a beautiful name.”

“Thank you,” Daisy blushed.

“Miss Fay,” I started, putting on a posh accent, “are you a veteran of this camp?”

“I am indeed.”

“And do you think you could spare some time to help a newbie learn the ropes?”

“I’lI have to check my schedule. You know, out here, there’s just SO much to do,” Daisy joked, gesturing at the surrounding woods.

“If you could squeeze me in between your opera attendances and debutante training sessions, I could be satisfied.”

“I’ll see what I can do. But you can’t forget, I’ll also have my piano lessons.”

“Ah yes, of course.” I looped my right arm through her left and we giggled at each other.

“I think you and I are going to get along swimmingly,” I said. Daisy grinned back at me.

“I think so too.”

\---

On the first night the counselors made us wait outside the dining hall before dinner and explained the camp rules. The staff seemed nice enough on the outside, but I hadn’t known them long enough to be able to tell what they were really like. There was one woman who seemed constantly agitated, a dark skinned lady named Honey who had introduced herself as the head cook. She radiated grumpiness and the way her frizzy hair had been tied back into a bun made her look severe. During the meal I was designated as the server for my table, and I had to retrieve food from the kitchen along with the other servers. Honey handed me a metal tray laden with food, which I almost dropped since it was scorching hot.

“It’s hot,” Honey warned, as I made a last minute save to prevent the food from tipping over and onto the floor.

“Don’t you dare drop that, girl! I told you it was hot.” Honey’s reaction was delayed by a few seconds.

_Yeah, thanks for telling me that **after** you handed me the tray,_ I wanted to say. But I held my tongue. Though normally I live to cause trouble, I was hesitant to make waves then. I didn’t want to make my life worse than it already was.

“Anything you drop on the floor, we can’t serve. And since we can’t let any food go to waste, you’ll be eating it,” the cook threatened.

I bit my lip and bobbed my head up and down, hoping I would be released. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Now get a move on!”

When my serving job was done and all the dishes had made it to my table intact, I took the empty place next to Daisy.

“Why do they call her Honey if she’s so…”

“Strict?” Daisy offered. “Tough?”

“I was going to say not sweet, but yeah.”

“Oh no, Honey can be a real sweetheart. She’s only tough on us because she wants things to be done a certain way. It’s a hard job, being head cook. But if you catch her at the right time, she’s very nice.”

I was skeptical, but I was more interested in Daisy than the cook, so I changed the subject.

“What do you like to do in your spare time?” I asked.

“Well, I do a little of everything. Drawing, painting, writing, badminton. But-” she glanced around, looking for eavesdroppers, “-reading is my favorite.”

“And why is that such a secret?”

“My parents don’t approve. They think it makes me unattractive.”

“That’s ridiculous. Reading is perfectly good for you!”

“I think it’s more an issue of _what_ I’m reading.”

“What are you reading?”

“Anything I can get my hands on. Fiction books, nonfiction books. Ones about science, fashion, philosophy, whatever. I was interested in politics, so I started reading the news, but recently my father’s taken to hiding his newspapers so I can’t read them. It’s infuriating, especially with the war on.”

“My, my, you are quite the bibliophile.”

“I hope you don’t think less of me for it,” Daisy said.

“Of course not! It’s impressive that you’ve read so much. You make me wish I read more.”

“To be honest, I started reading because there wasn’t much else for me to do. I don’t get out much.”

“Sounds reasonable to me.”

“And you? What do you like to do?”

“Well, I-uh,” I floundered, looking for something to say. I didn’t have a long list of hobbies like Daisy.

“I’m not at home a lot,” I explained, deciding to go the truthful route. “I don’t get along that well with my family.”

“Ah.” Daisy, in all her politeness, didn’t ask why.

“So I would have to say my favorite activity would be spending time with friends.”

“I envy you.”

“Why? Don’t you have friends?”

“I do, but most of them come and go after a while, so they’re not very dependable. And I'm an only child, so no siblings.”

“Hmm. Sounds like you need new friends.”

“That’s why I’m here.” Daisy gave me a coy smile.

“Are we friends already?”

“I think we fit the requirements for at least a casual friendship,” Daisy declared.

“I’d have to agree with that,” I remarked.

The clanging of the bell started up as Honey called for the servers to bring the dirty plates in. I had about as much success in the kitchen my second time I had the first. While washing dishes, I burned my hands, and was exiled from the kitchen by an annoyed Honey, who grumbled that I was a danger to myself and others. But it wasn’t all bad, because I was reassigned to sweeping the hall floor with Daisy.

\---

Over the course of the week Daisy’s formal nature disappeared as she let more of her guard down. I usually spent so much time down in the dumps that it was refreshing to hang around someone who hadn’t lost their innocence and hope. Not that we had much time for socializing, with all the work we were doing. Every day we had to do chores such as fetching water, looking for kindling, cooking and picking up trash. I wanted to help chop firewood, but of course no one trusted me with an axe and even if they had I probably wouldn’t have been strong enough to wield it. In addition, they were always finding things for us to clean. Bathrooms, showerhouses, cabins, we cleaned them all. I estimate that about half of our time was spent doing menial tasks. With the time that was left over after meals, flag ceremonies and campfires, we did do some of the activities that Magnolia had promised. We did go hiking and do archery, but we didn’t swim in the lake because it was filled with green algae and nasty bugs. On the third day of camp we had a rare block of free time, so Daisy and I decided to make friendship bracelets along with some of the other girls and our counselor Ginger. She was a junior counselor, still a young adult, and closer to our age. She had been aptly named because she was, in fact, a ginger, and had thick curly hair. I was jealous of it and wished that my own hair was just as vibrant instead of being a mousy brown. But when I told Daisy this, she insisted that orange was most definitely not my color. Besides Ginger and Magnolia, we also had another counselor named Daffodil.

“But you can call me Daffy,” she had mock-whispered to us with a wink. Daffy was, as her name suggested, a little crazy. The most energetic of the counselor crew, she was the one who was always trying to get us enthusiastic about our various activities. But despite her extrovertedness, she could also be extremely thoughtful and a good listener in times of need. While we were taking a break under the shade of an oak tree, Daffy had gone to get our lunch. Magnolia was busy supervising another group of girls.

Our conversation started off as normal ones do, with talk about the weather and day-to-day business, but quickly veered into gossip about music and celebrities. I could tell everyone was making an effort to avoid the subject of the war. The environment around us was so serene and idyllic that it was hard to imagine that somewhere very far away men were killing each other and dying horrible deaths. Somehow the discussion turned to boys and crushes.

“After we danced, we were both completely red in the face, so we went outside to cool off. Ben said he had something to show me, so he took me to the rose garden. And there,” Nancy paused for dramatic effect, “he kissed me.” This statement was met with an outburst of disbelief.

“No!”

“He didn’t!”

“No boy could be that bold.”

“Alright, he didn’t,” Nancy admitted. “But we did go to the rose garden. It was very romantic.” She frowned.

“He hasn’t asked me to be his girl yet, though.”

Anne, who was next to her, patted her on the shoulder.

“He’ll get there eventually.”

May decided to take her chance to be in the spotlight.

“My older sister has a sweetheart. And,” she lowered her voice to a mock-scandalized whisper, “the two of them have been..._doing_ it.”

“Ew!”

“Gross.”

We all looked at Ginger expectantly, waiting to see if she would shut the conversation down. She only shrugged.

“If they ask, I’ll say I was too busy with this to hear anything,” she said, holding up her string bracelet. I found it hilariously ironic that the things the adult counselors wanted to prevent us from talking about were the things we most wanted to discuss. Sex, drugs and alcohol, politics, these are all topics that are bound to come up whenever you have a large group of teenage girls.

“Are you sure?” The group’s attention had been refocused on May.

“Positive. I heard them at it one afternoon when our parents weren’t home.”

“That’s disgusting. You poor thing.”

“I’m not going to be _involved_ with any man until I’m married to him,” a particularly religious girl, Priscilla, declared.

“Where’d the fun be in that?” I countered. Priscilla looked horrified.

“But it’s a sin,” she argued.

“Priscilla, just because the camp has a church and we do daily prayer doesn’t mean that everyone who comes here is religious. People have a right to believe what they want,” Daisy defended.

“And I believe that a woman can have sex before marriage, if she wants,” I added. Now everyone was looking at me funny, even Ginger. I tried to laugh it off.

“I’m a little radical, but I promise I’m no anarchist.” I cracked. No one laughed. After an awkward pause, someone spoke up.

“I support women’s rights too. I think all those women- the ones who stand and protest outside the White House- are awfully brave,” Anne contributed.

“It must be very scary to stick up for a cause that so many people are against,” Daisy agreed.

Another silence followed.

“I know someone who had a girlfriend for a while,” I said. This was not really on topic, but I wanted to see how the others reacted.

“You mean someone as in like a boy?”

“No. I mean a girl.”

“A girl with a girlfriend?”

“I didn’t even know that was possible,” I heard one girl whisper to her friend.

“Well I think it’s disgusting,” Priscilla stated forcefully. “It’s unnatural and wrong.”

“But is it wrong? Does gender really matter when you love a person?” I asked.

“Yes! Because it isn’t love. Those..._people_...are sick and perverted.”

“That’s offensive,” I said, mildly annoyed. The others were getting uncomfortable.

“I don’t care, because I’m right! The Lord says-”

“Is everything all right over here?” Magnolia had heard the raised voices and came to investigate. She was a bloodhound when it came to trouble, she could smell it from miles away. The bad thing was that she was strict and a stickler for rules.

“Yes,” Priscilla and I both responded automatically. Magnolia’s eyes narrowed.

“We had an issue, but it was resolved,” Ginger corrected. Magnolia still looked suspicious, but she didn’t ask any more questions.

“It’s time for dinner,” she explained, “Daffodil has returned with the lunches.”

We slogged through the heat back to the cabin area for our picnic. While everyone else went to the bathroom to wash up before the meal, I ducked into the cabin and went straight to my cot. I rifled through my duffel bag, looking for the pocket in which I had hidden a pack of cigarettes. When I finally found the box it felt heavier than normal, and when I opened it, to my great horror and despair I found a Swiss Army knife and a note which read:

_I hope this will prove more useful to you than the previous contents. Have fun at camp! (And don’t forget to write)_

_-Max_

That bastard. I most certainly would be writing to him, to inform him of what a jackass he was. His trick was going to undermine my entire experience.

“Hey.” Daisy had followed me into the cabin. She came up behind me and hugged me, putting her head on my shoulder.

“What’s that?” she asked, noticing the objects in my hands.

“A pocket knife. Which was not what I was hoping for,” I sighed. “All I wanted was one damn cigarette.”

“I understand,” Daisy sympathized. “That was not a pleasant conversation.”

“You were on my side, right?”

“Yes, what you said made sense.” I felt relief wash over me. At least one person appreciated me and my ideas.

“You know what? I don’t think I need that cigarette now.” Daisy was still hugging me.

“Good. Those things are bad for your development.”

“Yes, but-”

“You’ll never grow up to be beautiful if you keep smoking.” Daisy stopped hugging me to run a hand through my hair. I felt a chill run through me. But I was distracted from the intimate moment by what she had said.

“You really think I could be pretty?”

“Don’t ask that Jordan, darling, it’s a silly question.” She wove her fingers through mine.

“They’ll probably be wondering where we are,” I blushed. I didn’t know what was happening to me. I never felt bashful.

“Yes, I suppose it’s frightfully dull out there without us. Shall we adjourn for luncheon?”

“Whatever you wish, my lady,” I replied..

And that was how we ended up walking out of the cabin hand in hand and ignored everyone else for the entirety of lunch. It was the best meal I’d had in a long time.

\---

On the fifth night the staff held a surprise party of sorts for the campers. Of course it wasn’t really a surprise, since the news traveled down the grapevine almost immediately after the staff made the decision. But you can’t expect secrets to stay secret in a community mostly made up of teenage girls, an age group whose favorite activity is gossiping. That was why just before dinner on that night, the counselors were going about their business and pretending that nothing unusual was going to happen, while the girls were putting on their best outfits and vigorously brushing their hair in the bathroom. There would only be one boy at the dance, as we had started calling it, the groundskeeper’s son. Though he was only twelve years old and, in my opinion, not worth the trouble, the younger girls disagreed with me strongly and were chattering amongst themselves about how to impress him. I would much rather admire all the cute girls, but that night I only had eyes for one person. Unlike the others, I hadn’t brought any nice clothes. In fact, many would have considered my outfit unfashionable. We had gone on a hike that day, and there was no way in hell I was going to wear stockings and a dress to trek through the sweltering heat, so I chose to wear loose-fitting mustard brown pants and a white blouse. Pants were one of the few social transgressions that my parents could tolerate, as long as I didn’t wear them in high society. We had fought about it, of course, but it concerned them less than some of my other misdeeds. I certainly got a few disapproving looks from the older counselors and curious glances from the campers, but no one confronted me. People didn’t care about fashion as much during the war.

Because I didn’t feel like changing my outfit, I spent my free time before dinner outside stringing together a chain of daisies. When I finished my project and returned to the house, I was greeted by the rustling of fabric as girls darted around the room to fawn over each other’s garments. Pushing past a few skirts, I made my way over to present my gift to Daisy, who was wearing a baby blue dress with a sailor collar.

“Darling, this is absolutely adorable!” she gushed. But when she tried putting it on, it slipped over her head and onto her neck.

“Sorry!” I said, embarrassed, “I made it too big.”

“I could wear it as a necklace,” she offered.

“It would clash with your outfit,” another girl chipped in. I shot her a glare.

“No, I know what to do.” Daisy removed a few flowers from the strand. I was just about to protest when she held up a hand.

“Be right back.”

When she returned she was holding a few bobby pins.

“Turn around.” She pinned up my hair using her bobby pins, then used the flowers she had picked to decorate my bun. When she had finished, she tied the ends of the daisy chain together and replaced it on her head.

“I know you can’t see it right now, but your hair looks really good. And you look good, of course,” Daisy said. Now it was her turn to blush.

“Thanks. You too,” I returned her compliment, smiling. Daisy really was too sweet.

After our meal of roast turkey, mashed potatoes and cranberry jelly, the girls had to wait outside as the staff pushed the long dining tables to the sides of the room, then lit little candles around the space. We didn’t get electric lighting out in the boondocks, and it got dark quickly in the forest, so we needed all the light we could get.

To be honest, it wasn’t really a dance. When the music started, no one knew what to do, so most people just stood around. While the phonograph played ragtime tunes we drank punch and talked. Now, ragtime was fine and all, but jazz was a godsend. That music reaches right into your soul and makes you want to dance like crazy. But ragtime never inspired me that way. Also, the dances of my youth were kind of ridiculous. One was called “The Grizzly Bear,” where two people would walk around with their faces on each other’s shoulders, their arms outstretched and their hands clawed, imitating bears. At the end of the dance the two partners would do a grizzly bear pose at each other. To my complete horror, and that of many of the other girls, the groundskeeper and his wife started to do this dance. I felt bad for their son. He looked like he wanted to melt into a pile of goo. Several girls were still trying to pursue him.

“So romantic,” I quipped sarcastically to my little group. Daisy did a grizzly bear pose and made a kissy face.

“Smoochie smoochie smoochie!” We all sniggered at that. After the song finished and the whole room felt relieved, a slower song came up. The groundskeeper and his wife had no intention of stopping, but at least this time they chose a less uncomfortable dance, the castle walk.

“Jordan, I want to dance.” I had turned back to my conversation, but Daisy was still watching the couple in the middle of the room.

“Go dance, then,” I said. If she wanted to dance, she didn’t need permission from me.

“No, you idiot,” Daisy laughed, “I want you to dance with me.” She grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the dance floor.

“What the hell- Daisy, I can’t dance!”

“Nonsense. It’s only a one-step. It’s easy.” We were on the edge of the empty space now, and Daisy was clutching both my wrists.

“But-”

“Please? For me?” Daisy turned her sad puppy eyes on me. I hated to disappoint her.

“Fine,” I groaned, allowing her to hold my hands.

“What do I do?”

“Just follow me. It’s easy.”

Daisy tugged on my hands and started walking backwards. I walked forwards and we started to make our way around the space in a circle. We stepped in time with the music, and when she took a step backward, I would take one forward.

“This is stupid,” I complained. “We’re just walking in a circle.”

“But we’re doing it with style,” Daisy countered.

I risked a quick glance over Daisy’s shoulder and saw that the other couple was watching us. I could already feel my skin prickling from dozens of stares.

“Everyone’s watching us,” I whispered to my partner.

“It’s ok. They think we’re just friends,” she reassured me.

“Are we more than friends?” I was surprised. Daisy paused thoughtfully.

“If you want to be.”

“I do...but only if you want to be too.”

“I do.”

“Well, I, um…” I fumbled for something to say, but I was still confused.

“What did I just agree to?” Daisy laughed at my bewilderment, the sound a burbling stream.

“Just dance with me, Jordan. Forget about everyone else.”

“I’ll try my best.”

The next song was a little more lively, and as the tempo picked up, so did our dancing. We tried out some new moves, even incorporating a twirl or two. When the music ended again we were grinning at each other. I had never thought that I could actually have fun doing this. After a brief moment of relieved silence, a tango started to play. Daisy pulled one of my hands down to her waist and placed her own on my shoulder. My heart beat faster in fear and excitement. I found it funny that I, who had done so many risky things so much worse than what I was doing now, was scared of a little dance. I felt Daisy’s hand trembling slightly in my own and knew she was feeling similarly. Then, just as we were about to take off, a hand clamped down on Daisy’s shoulder. She jumped, releasing me.

“Daisy, I’d like to have a word with you.” It was Magnolia. She towered over us with an expression of disapproval, her sweetness turning sour.

“Y-yes ma’am,” Daisy managed to choke out.

“This way, dear,” Magnolia ordered. As she led Daisy away she shot a black look at me. All my excitement turned to dread and I felt like the floor was turning me upside down. On top of that, I could feel the weight of a couple hundred eyes concentrated on me. I was left alone to face the wolves. Trying to remove myself from the spotlight and the minds of the crowd, I quickly made my way towards the back of the room. I poured myself a cup of punch and sat down, trying to give the appearance that I was fine. In reality, I didn’t know whether I wanted to scream or cry. Maybe both. To avoid doing either, I tried to focus on the music coming from the crooning phonograph. Someone had switched the track and now it was no longer a tango.

_You see I’m nobody’s baby,_

_I wonder why._

_Each night and day I pray the Lord up above_

_please send me down somebody to love._

_But nobody wants me, I’m blue somehow._

_Won’t someone hear my plea_

_and take a chance with me_

_Because I’m nobody’s baby now._

The song was bloody depressing, but kind of accurate. Nobody wants me. My parents didn’t want me, they’d made that clear. And neither did my friends, really. Or my counselors at the camp. But it wasn’t all that accurate. I had Max, he wanted me around. Or at least I hoped. I tried not to consider the possibility that he wouldn’t come back for me when camp was over. He wouldn’t do that. And then there was Daisy. She had said that she wanted me. But would she still want me now? I was sure she was off somewhere being reprimanded by Magnolia and felt badly for it. I didn’t want to see Daisy get into trouble because of me. She was the good girl; I was the bad one.

_Won’t someone hear my plea_

_Come take a little chance with me_

_Because I’m no, no, no nobody’s baby now._

It occurred to me just how odd my behavior had been the past few days. I had felt embarrassed, excited, even happy, which were infrequent emotions for me. And now here I was worrying and listening to sad music. What was wrong with me? I couldn’t allow myself to fall apart. Summoning all my mental strength, I pulled an iron curtain over my heart, hoping to disguise the pain and hurt.

\---

I didn’t see Daisy for the rest of the party, but at times I thought I caught glimpses of her. When all the girls were sent back to their cabins, Daisy was already in the bathroom. I tried to speak to her, but as soon as I entered, she left the room. After lights out, I lay in my sleeping bag and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe I shouldn’t let this get to me. If Daisy was going to give me the silent treatment, I should do the same to her. But I couldn’t bring myself to be mean to her. And I need closure before the night was over. Waiting for everyone else to fall asleep was absolute agony. There was nothing else to think about but how much I wanted to be talking to Daisy. When I was satisfied that everyone else had finally- finally! -drifted off, I scrambled out of my sleeping bag as quietly as I could and tip-toed over to Daisy. Muffled sniffles were coming from her sleeping bag. Putting my hand on the bump where I thought her shoulder should be, I knelt down beside her. She sat up and turned to me wordlessly, her eyes shining with tears.

“Oh, honey,” I whispered sympathetically. “Let’s go outside.” Daisy was pulled to her feet and led out of the cabin. Neither of us said anything until we were past the circle of light created by the outdoor oil lamp and into the dark shadows of the trees.

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you,” Daisy sniffed. “I just didn’t know what to do.” A fat tear ran down her cheek and I brushed it away with my thumb.

“It’s okay. What did Magnolia say to you?” I asked.

“At first, she scolded me for ‘inappropriate behavior.’ She said what I-what we were doing was disturbing to the other girls.”

“That’s pretty standard stuff, for this sort of thing.”

Daisy looked up at me, her face stained with tears. “Is it?”

“Well, yeah,” I said, becoming the teacher, “usually they tell you that you’re twisted, immoral, going to hell, etcetera, etcetera.”

“Yes, she said some of that. But she also told me that you were making me into a bad person.”

I was not surprised by this.

“But I’m not a bad person, am I? All I wanted was one dance, and now suddenly I’m evil?”

“Actually, it was two dances,” I corrected. Daisy sobbed harder. I pulled her closer to me, trying to find the right words to say. She laid her head on my chest.

“You’re not bad or evil. There’s nothing wrong with you. The real bad people are the ones who hurt us.”

“I don’t think Magnolia is a bad person.”

“She’s a homophobic bitch, of course she’s a bad person.”

“People aren’t all good or bad. The world isn’t that black and white,” she protested half-heartedly.

“Sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t.”

“No matter what she is, she told me I couldn’t see you anymore.”

“Or what?”

“Or she’d tell my parents. And…” Daisy’s voice cracked and she looked like she might start crying again. “And I really can’t get in trouble with my parents.”

I stayed silent. I was already on thin ice with my parents because of _this sort of thing_, and it was not at all pleasant. So I understood Daisy. But as a selfish human being, I didn’t want to encourage her to break us up.

“I want to keep seeing you, but I don’t know what to do and now I don’t even want to think about it anymore because it’s driving me mad.”

“Ah. Now that’s a problem I can fix.”

“You can?” Daisy looked confused.

“The not thinking bit of it, anyway.”

“How?”

“The best way of not thinking is to smoke. But since we haven’t got any cigarettes, we’ll have to go with the second-best way.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’ll see.” I grabbed her hand and tugged her along. “Come on!”

The dining hall was only just a little way down the road from our cabin, so we got there quickly. I dragged Daisy around to the back door, which connected to the kitchen. We listened apprehensively for signs of activity. I heard the head cook, Honey, wishing some others goodnight. At that point I felt safe enough, so I darted in through the back door and into the pantry, Daisy following.

“Jordan! What are we doing?” she hissed.

“Just…looking for some wine...or rum…” I replied, scanning the shelves.

“This is crazy! We’ll get caught!”

“Damn,” I said, ignoring Daisy. I couldn’t see any alcohol anywhere. Then it hit me. They wouldn’t keep the liquor here. It would be in the staff pantry, where campers couldn’t get it. But the staff pantry was off the main hallway, more exposed, and a key was needed to open it. I glided into the kitchen, and there, just my luck, was a ring of keys sitting on a peg. Snatching the keys, I scrambled over to the staff pantry. My good luck continued, for in the treasure trove of forbidden goods I found a few bottles of vodka. I picked one out and handed it to Daisy.

“I figure we’ll only need one,” I said, shutting the door and re-locking it. Daisy, on the other hand, looked horrified to have been made a criminal. We were just about to make our escape when a familiar voice caught my attention.

“I think you’re being too hard on them.” That was Daffy.

“And you’re not being hard enough,” was Magnolia’s response.

“They’re sodomites, the pair of them. That’s not appropriate at all, especially not for a girls camp,” she continued.

“You don’t know that. They’re young and carefree. I was like that with my friends when I was their age.”

“Hmm.” I could picture the suspicious look Magnolia was giving Daffy.

“And Daisy doesn’t really seem like the type,” Daffy argued.

“But Jordan- you’ve seen that girl, she styles herself as a suffragette. Those pants she wears, how she goes on about ‘women’s rights.’ She’s certainly queer and I bet she’s steering Daisy in that direction as well.”

“I am not!” I whisper-yelled.

“Jordan,” Daisy tugged on my arm. “Jordan, let’s go.”

“But-“

“Please. I don’t want you to get upset.”

It took every ounce of strength I had not to resist her. I wanted to stay and listen, but we needed to leave before we got caught- or I did something stupid. So I let her pull me away.

We tramped back through the bushes scratching at our legs and the thin, tall trees leaning over us, not bothering to be quiet this time. There was an empty expanse of soon-to-be dead grass right before we reached the cabin, and we plopped down right in the middle of it.

“Don’t we need a light?” Daisy objected.

“Of course not. How would we see the stars?” I answered. We both looked up at the endless black pond filled with glistening stones.

“Right. To business, then.” I sat up and placed the vodka bottle in front of me.

“How will we open it?”

“With this!” I exclaimed triumphantly, pulling Max’s Swiss Army knife out of my pocket. It rested in the center of my palm like a precious jewel. I smirked at the irony. What once was my ruination was now my salvation.

“It’s almost like your brother knew this would happen,” Daisy remarked.

“I doubt it.” I looked through the attachments. No corkscrew.

“Or maybe he did,” I amended. “Damn you, Max.” In his opinion, drinking was just as bad, if not worse, than smoking.

Determined not to be defeated, I flicked open the knife attachment. I raised it above my head and then brought it down, stabbing the blade into the cork with maximum force, so that when I pulled the knife out the cork came with it. I handed the open bottle to Daisy.

“We should’ve gotten cups,” she said.

“We don’t need those,” I assured. Daisy gave the bottle a once-over, then took a swig.

“Bleh.” She made a sour face.

“You get used to it after a while,” I told her. She gave me back the bottle and I gulped down a mouthful of the clear liquid, already feeling the fire kindling in my veins.

“Have you, you know-_ drank_\- before?” I asked.

“A little. Mostly fruity cocktails, some watered-down wine. Nothing like that,” she indicated the vodka. “You?”

“Not much,” I admitted, “but enough to know what I’m doing.” Drinking wasn’t my favorite pastime. I didn’t like the taste of alcohol, and I didn’t like how quickly I got disoriented and confused whenever I drank.

“The thing about drinking is,” I swirled the bottle,”At least in my opinion, it’s less about how it tastes and more about how it makes you feel.”

“And that feeling would be...happy?”

“Yeah. You forget about your problems, anyway. Usually, that is.”

“Usually?”

I forced the bottle into Daisy’s hand. “Try again?” She sipped it and made another face.

“It tastes like bread.”

“I know, it’s pretty fucking weird.”

I took the bottle from Daisy and took a big swig. The warm feeling in my chest flared. I tried to gather up all my confidence for what I was going to say next.

“Daisy?”

“Mhmm?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier, about wanting to be more than friends?”

She paused before answering, “Yes.”

“So you like me?”

Daisy shoved me playfully. “Of course I like you, darling.”

An unexpected question slipped from my lips.

“Why?”

“Why?” She looked taken aback for a moment.

“Because you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

“Me?”

“Yes! You’re so confident, and you’re not afraid to be yourself or to say what you really think. But on the inside, you’re a nice person. I want to be just like you.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m not really that nice.”

“You’re nice to me.”

“Because you’re so charming and sweet that I would have difficulty being mean to you.”

“So, we like each other.” Daisy stated, with finality. “What next?”

“I don’t know.”

“Does this make us…homosexuals?”

“Maybe,” I said. “But I can never be sure. Sometimes I like girls. Other times I like boys.” I reached for her delicate hand in the dark.

“The only thing I know for certain is that I love being around you, talking with you, dancing with you- I just love you.”

Daisy smiled down at our intertwined hands. She moved closer and pulled my body to hers so that I was cradled in her arms. Resting her chin on my shoulder, she whispered into my ear, “I love you too.”  
I turned to look at her, and found that our lips were inches apart. Leaning forward, I closed the gap so that all of a sudden I was kissing her and she was kissing back. Her mouth was warm and soft, and it was hard to keep my own lips closed. A voice in the back of my kept questioning whether I was doing it right, but I tried my best to ignore and just enjoy the happy, hopeful sensation running through me. Finally I leaned away. It hadn’t been a very good kiss, but it had a lot of meaning and that counted for something. Daisy bit her lip and watched my expression very carefully.

“Your mouth still tastes like bread.”

I broke into uncontrollable giggles at that, collapsing into her. She joined me a second later. It felt so good to be laughing again after all the depressed silence, and I was glad I wasn’t alone. I don’t know how long we lay there, clutching each other, but the happiness felt like it would last forever.

\---

I was awoken by someone shaking me vigorously. When I opened my eyes, I discovered two things. The first was that it was still nighttime, since it was still quite dark. The second was that the absolutely livid face of Magnolia was floating over me, like a demon dead set on taking me to hell.

“Get up!” The face hissed.

“Wha…?” I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Then I saw Daisy lying next to me in the grass and remembered where we were. Magnolia grabbed my arm and yanked me to my feet. She was holding the almost-empty vodka bottle.

“Get up!” She hissed again, this time at Daisy. I stood, petrified. Not only had I been found passed out drunk in the middle of a field, I had been found in the arms of another girl. Now I was fucking toast. Any chance of improving my situation with my family had just flown out the window. Magnolia dragged Daisy to her feet as well. She looked just as disoriented as I felt.

“How dare the two of you act like this! Anne thought you were dead!” Magnolia shrieked. It was only then that I noticed the slight girl standing a few feet behind her. Anne was carrying a flashlight, so I assumed she had been on her way to the bathroom when she found us.

“Come on,” Magnolia demanded. She seized me by the wrist while the others followed. Adrenaline coursed through my system, telling me to fight back, but I was too shocked to resist. Plus, I had a bit of a hangover. We stumbled through the meadow in the dark and over to the pool of light outside our cabin, where Daffy and Ginger were waiting for us. Magnolia explained the situation to them in furious hushed tones, but I wasn’t listening. I was watching Daisy, who was staring at the ground, boring holes into it with her eyes. It could have been that she was still feeling the effects of the alcohol, but more likely she was regarding the punishment that was to come. I longed to reach out and take her hand, but I was too scared. So I just stood there, shivering pathetically. Eventually Anne and Daffy were sent back inside, and Ginger was picked to escort the prisoners along with Magnolia. They marched us down to the dining hall, Magnolia keeping a firm grip on my arm the entire time. Ginger didn’t touch Daisy. When we entered the dining hall, Magnolia herded us towards the kitchen. I realized they were going to separate us when Ginger and Daisy didn’t follow Magnolia into the room.

“Wait, Daisy-” I called out, but Magnolia shoved me farther into the kitchen and slammed the door. Though the space was rather big, I felt like the weight of the world was pressing down on me. What if I never saw Daisy again? Magnolia whirled around, wild strands of hair flying. Even her freckles looked angry.

“You little bitch,” she spat.

“You just couldn’t control yourself, could you?”

I stayed silent, not knowing how to respond.

“People like you shouldn’t be allowed to come here.”

“Well, you were the one who wanted me to stay,” I shot back.

“And I regret that decision. What am I supposed to tell the administrators now? That a bloody sodomite has ruined everything?”

“How about that you’ve been threatening the campers?” I offered.

“You know,” Magnolia growled, taking a step towards me, “If you were one of my children, I’d slap that mouth right off your face.”

I backed up into a counter. I took a few steps to the side, trying to get something between me and and Magnolia.

“I hope your parents whip you good when you get home.” I shuddered at the thought. They probably would. Magnolia kept coming closer, and in my pocket, my hand tightened around the Swiss Army knife.

“But then again, since they’re not here right now-”

There was a creaking noise, and the previously-closed kitchen door swung open. Honey was standing there, a halo of frizzy curls surrounding her face. She was wrapped up in a bathrobe, and looked like she had just been awoken. One hand on the door, she took in the scene curiously. Magnolia and I were frozen at opposite ends of the kitchen counter, watching her.

“Well?” Magnolia demanded impatiently.

“I’ve been sent to relieve you,” Honey explained. “The directors want to speak with you.”

“Really?” Magnolia looked suspicious.

“Yes.”

“Alright then. Watch her, she’s a crafty one,” Magnolia ordered, glaring at me as she pushed past Honey and out the door.

Honey took a step into the kitchen and closed the door. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in, allowing the tension to leave my body.

“Why don’t you sit down,” Honey said, pulling up a couple of chairs. I slid onto mine, feeling considerably small next to the larger woman, who sat beside me.

“Remind me of your name?”

“Jordan.”

“Now, Jordan, do you want to talk about it?”

I opened my mouth to emit my customary _no_, but nothing came out. Because this time, I did actually want to talk about it.

“Yes.”

And it all tumbled from my lips, my whole life story: My parents, my brother, the stupid things I did with my friends, and finally the camp and Daisy and the feelings I had been experiencing the past week. Whenever I started to cry, Honey would hand me a handkerchief, and when I neared the end of the story and broke into incoherent sobbing, she told me to take a break while she made cocoa. The aromatic steam rising from our teacups of hot chocolate wafted over me and had a calming effect.

“Okay, continue,” Honey urged, positioning herself to face me. I had thought about what I wanted to say while she worked.

“All this pain I have inside me, for so long I’ve hoped that it might just go away one day. But it’s not going to go away. And it’s only going to get worse when I return home. So I don’t really see the point.”

“The point of what?”

“The point of living, I guess.” I shrugged.

“Don’t say that,” Honey said.

“Why not? I might never see Daisy again.”

“Do you really love her?”

“More than anyone I know. Well, except for my brother. But that’s different.”

“And she loves you?”

“Yeah.”

“Then there’s your point.”

“I don’t understand.”

“If you were to die now, don’t you think she’d be really hurt?”

“Probably.” I imagined Daisy attending my funeral. It was difficult for me to picture.

“You don’t want Daisy to feel the same pain you’re feeling right now.”

“Of course not!”

“Then that’s your reason to live. Because if you killed yourself, the pain you would inflict on the people who love you would be horrible.” I flinched, both at Honey’s stern tone and her phrasing. We had been dancing around those words.

“That makes sense,” I agreed.

“It’s why I keep going every day, for my daughter. Now, I have other reasons too. Cooking, for one, and real cooking, mind you, not this camp cooking. But whenever things get tough, I think about my girl and the kind of life I want for her.”

“How old is your daughter?”

“A year or two younger than you. She doesn’t come to this camp.”

“Oh.”

“But I don’t think you need to worry about Daisy. It’s very likely you’ll see each other again.”

“Really?”

“Where there’s a will, there’s a way,” she offered sagely.

“I certainly have a will,” I smiled.

“And don’t let people like Magnolia get to you. if they push you around, fight back. You’ll find that they’re more scared of you than you should be of them.”

Something occurred to me.

“It doesn’t bother you, that I like girls?”

“Sweetie, I work at an all-girls camp. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen this and it certainly won’t be the last.” Honey chuckled. “There’s nothing wrong with loving who you love.”

The door opened again and this time it was Magnolia. She frowned at the pair of us.

“I told you to watch her, not coddle her,” she fumed.

“What do you want?” I asked curtly. Magnolia’s frown intensified.

“The directors are ready to see you. You,” she addressed Honey, “can go. Your services are no longer required.”

“Unless you have something else you need to do,” I added quickly.

“No,” Honey answered quizzically.

“Then I’m ready to depart. Why don’t you escort me to the directors?” I said to Magnolia, smiling. Her jaw dropped.

“Oh, and thank you for the cocoa,” I told Honey, setting my cup and saucer down on the counter before breezing out the door past Magnolia. I only regretted that I couldn’t see her expression. Ah, revenge is sweet.

\---

_Plonk. Plunk. Plink._ The stones made little splashes as I hurled them into the water. Ripples emanated from where the rocks had fallen. I was sitting on the shore of the lake, listening to the sounds of the waves and watching the other girls practice their canoeing. There was going to be a mini-regatta in the afternoon, a race between the units. Then tomorrow morning we would go home. I sighed. I wasn’t sure whether going home would be a good or bad thing. I was currently stuck in an emotional purgatory. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world, but it also wasn’t enjoyable. The other girls had been keeping their distance, so I hadn’t really talked to anyone. The adults were doing everything they could to keep me and Daisy apart, so I couldn’t speak to her, either. She hadn’t been punished as harshly as I, but a black cloud of shame still hovered over her. So I had plenty of time alone to think. Last night the directors had told me that they weren’t sending me home because it was so close to the end of camp, but my parents would be informed of my behavior. As punishment, I had to do extra chores. But I already did plenty of cleaning, and I didn’t mind extra cooking since it gave me more opportunities to see Honey, so that wasn’t so bad. I also had to sleep in the same area as the counselors, which was more nerve-wracking. Magnolia might wring my neck, so I tried to stay as close as possible to Daffy and Ginger.  
Now, I was grateful to be alive, but lonely. My ears pricked up when I heard the sound of feet traversing the gravelly sand beside me. Hoping against hope, I called “Hello?”

“Hello,” was Daisy’s breathy response. I didn’t look at her, for fear of attracting attention.

“Are you mad at me?” I asked.

“No, I’m not angry.” She paused. “It wasn’t your fault. We both made some bad choices,”

“Yeah, not the best decisions I’ve ever made. But If I had the chance to go back and do it all over again, I’d make those exact same choices.”

“You would?”

“Yes. Because if I didn’t, I’d never get to share all those special moments with you. Or find out how wonderful you are. Or, most importantly,” I dared to look over to the direction the voice had come from. There she was, in a glowing white sundress, her golden hair caught by the wind. She looked like Aphrodite, risen from the sea. “I would never have realized I love you.”

Daisy contemplated this. “There are a few things I would change. But I did find breaking the rules to be quite enjoyable. And I did truly feel happy when we were together.” I went back to regarding the sparkling blue water. I hated the way she referred to us being together in the past tense.

“So you don’t feel the same as I do, then,” I replied, letting the cold feeling in my heart creep into my voice.

“No!” For the first time, I heard her desperation. Then the shuffling noises of a person trudging through sand again. Daisy crouched next to me.

“I do care about you. And I want to be together. But I don’t see how that can happen.”

“This feels like I’m losing you,” I said, refusing to look at her. A tear ran down my cheek.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to lose you either.” I turned to Daisy and saw that her clear blue eyes were watering as well.

“Then let’s not lose each other.”

“How?” She looked doubtful.

“Daisy!” One of our counselors yelled.

“Once we’re out of here they can’t keep us separated anymore. I promise you, I will come and find you, whatever it takes.”

“Daisy! I need your help putting away the canoes.” It was Daffy.

“I don’t care if I have to look through every phone book in Kentucky- no, in America! I will find you.”

“Daisy!”

“And I’ll look for you,” Daisy promised.

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” I moaned.

“Neither do I,” she admitted.

“T’was a pleasure getting to know you, Miss Fay,” I said, tipping an imaginary hat.

“Until we meet again, Miss Baker.” She blew me a kiss, then disappeared into the distance. I would not speak to her again until many weeks later.

The next morning I anxiously awaited the arrival of my family, who would come to take me back to Louisville. After a long period of watching other girls be collected by their own joyous relatives, I felt a bit jealous and wished for my own happy reunion. But when I saw our Model T pull up that wish vanished. I wanted my family to be far, far away from the news of my scandalous wrongdoings. Magnolia began to march me over to the car, but a voice broke out, “Magnolia, your daughter Lily’s having some trouble with her stuff.”

“What?” My malicious guardian paused in concern.

“It sounds serious. She might have a temper tantrum.” That was Daisy’s voice. Daisy was covering for me!

“Oh dear. Can you bring me to her?” Daisy nodded.

“Ginger, take over,” Magnolia commanded.

“Jordan? Do you need help with your bags?” someone asked me.

“Max!” I dropped the aforementioned bags and gave him a giant bear hug around the midsection.

“Woah! Easy there, tiger,” he warned playfully. My parents were trailing behind him. I was much less happy to see them there. With the help of Max and my father, my bags were loaded into the car pretty quickly.

“Is there anyone you wanted to say goodbye to?” My mother asked. I surveyed the driveway. Ginger was swamped with parents picking up their children, and Daffy, Magnolia and Daisy were nowhere to be seen.

“Nope,” I told her, thinking _let’s get out of here before anyone wants to say goodbye to me and shares a little too much._

Max and I took our places in the back, with our father driving. As we navigated the winding roads, my father stated, “ I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

“I definitely learned a lesson.”

“The right one, I hope.”

“Of course.” I winked at Max. His eyebrows scrunched together.

“You are in big trouble, missy!” he scolded.

“Who, me?”

“You didn’t write to me!”

“Oh, that.” I sat back in relief.

“So writing to your brother isn’t that important to you, then?”

“Oh it is. But I was busy.” We fell back into sibling banter after that and the drive back to Louisville was surprisingly pleasant.

\---

Unfortunately, I did not escape unscathed, for a week and a half later, my parents received an angry letter from Magnolia detailing the events of what had happened. They were furious, and I was grounded for weeks. I did manage to locate Daisy’s house and visit it one time, but no one answered when I knocked. My parents’ solution to an unruly child was boarding school. Interestingly enough, Daisy’s parents had the exact same idea, and picked the exact same school for her to attend as my parents had. The universe works in mysterious ways. So at boarding school we were reunited. We were students, friends and occasional lovers. I took up golf and she continued to read to her heart’s content. We learned how to drive together, and were both equally bad at it. For two years, we were thick as thieves. But then in 1917, the United States joined the Great War and Daisy met the infallible Jay Gatsby. She was increasingly spending her time with him and I felt that we were being pulled in different directions. My brother was drafted, just as I had feared. I became a nurse in the hope that I could follow him to Europe, maybe even look out for him. Daisy tried to do something similar, to elope with Gatsby, but she was caught before she could leave. Her family sent her to Chicago to remind her of her place in society. But when I returned from the war, she was different. A changed woman. The girl  
I had known faded, replaced by the woman that others wanted to see. I blame myself for that. If I had stood by her side during those dark years, maybe she wouldn’t have become so riddled with anxiety or indifferent to the future. But one thing is for certain. She changed the course of my life forever. When I turned fifteen, I was broken and beaten down, about to crash and burn. If I had not gone to Camp Shantituck, I would never have found the people who kept me from crashing. Their love, patience and acceptance gave me the willpower to keep going and find reasons to live. So the “gift” my parents gave me, though I once thought of it as a curse, was actually a blessing in disguise.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback and suggestions are always welcome. I'm going to create a collection for this and some of my other work so that it's clear that the events in this story happen in the same universe as my multi-chapter fic. Anyone who's been to summer camp knows they are endless sources of drama. Though I did draw some of the details and inspiration for the characters from my own personal experiences, most of the things I described have never happened to me or at least have been exaggerated. However it's true that homophobia, even today, can be very real at all-girl camps. I had a ton of fun writing for Daisy and Jordan and I felt like I got to see different sides of their personalities. Two quick things before you go:
> 
> 1) The lyrics I included are from a song called "I'm Nobody's Baby." It was written in 1921, so it's a little out of place here in 1915, but I liked the message and felt that it could fit in since it's not quite as swingin' as your typical 1920s song. You can listen to it here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEMLjnAi8kU
> 
> 2)The dances I mentioned are real as well. You can watch a video of them here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sMyEnTZP0yI
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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